A Beautiful Mind
by SpobyFicStalker
Summary: "It seemed only logical that now, when at times she was so lost in her own mind that she couldn't tell you her own name, he was the one that figured out how to bring her back." The summer after the girls' senior year, the unspeakable happens. For Spencer Hastings, life as she once knew it is over forever. AU as of 4x17.
1. September & October

A/N: So… this has been my baby for the past 2-3 weeks. I'm very excited to share it with you all, but I'm also extremely nervous. Without giving too much away, I wanted to I apologize if it touches a nerve with some of you, or brings up some disagreeable feelings. I can't explain the need to write it down other than I've the idea for months and it just would not let me go… I can understand if you don't like it, and I can even take you telling me so, but please be gentle with your words. It's a scary thing to put something so personal out there, and I think some people underestimate how a few nasty comments can ruin a person's whole sense of self.

I originally intended for this to be a oneshot, but it quickly got out of hand to say the least. I've got the whole fiction – all six chapters of it – already written, and I will probably be updating every few days because I feel like waiting too long would disrupt the intimacy of the story. Save for the very last chapter (which will be an epilogue), the entire story takes place over the course of a school year. The title is kind of like a homage to the movie with the same name. I thought it was very fitting, but I take absolutely no credit for it.**  
**

Back when the idea struck me, it followed the canon storyline no problem. However, with what we know now, you'll have to ignore the last few twists I'm afraid. Let's say it can follow the original events up until 4x16 or even the first half of 4x17…

Here goes nothing.

* * *

**A Beautiful Mind**

September  
  
"You have to say her name first," Toby explained. "That's really important. Give her a chance to recognize your voice. She won't let you touch her if she doesn't know who you are."

He was sitting at the counter in the Hastings' kitchen, across from the infamous couple. They weren't exactly known for their parenting skills, but were making a conscious effort nonetheless.

Spencer was curled up on the couch a few feet away. These past few weeks had been exhausting for her, and she had fallen asleep in his arms some time before. He had tucked her into the folds of the sofa, replaced his warmth with a blanket, and joined her parents in the kitchen.

"And after… just hold her. Hold her tight, rock her, make her feel safe. She always comes back when she knows it's safe."

"I've seen you whisper things in her ear," Veronica pointed out carefully. She had watched this young man comfort her fragile daughter countless times since this nightmare had begun, wondering what it was about his touch that was so magical to her. "What do you tell her?"

Toby just shrugged, as if he didn't rightfully know. As if he'd never even thought about it. "I guess… just that I love her. That I'll always love her, and that I'll be there was she decides to come back. That it's okay. That I'll wait for her."

He looked away, and Veronica swore she saw a hint of tears behind his sky blue eyes.

They didn't ask him how he knew all this. Neither of her parents did. Even before it all happened – before their daughter had left the house the clever, stubborn, radiant girl they had known for over eighteen years, and was unrecognizable not twenty-four hours later – he'd had a way with her that they could only dream of.

He calmed her. Got her to listen to him, even when she was worked up. Provided her with some semblance of peace in her tumultuous, chaotic life.

It seemed only logical that now, when at times she was so lost in her own mind that she couldn't tell you her own name, he was the one that figured out how to bring her back.

"I can't stand it. I can't stand seeing her like this."

It was the first time Peter had spoken since their conversation had begun, and Toby was startled at the amount of emotion present in his voice. He sounded like a broken man. Such a far cry from the aloof, detached father Spencer had been referring to ever since they first met on his porch a million years ago.

"I know it's hard," Toby admitted quietly. "But she's still in there. She has good days. Sometimes it's even almost like…"

Before.

He didn't have to say the word. It rang in the air as if someone had shouted it. That's what it was like now. Their lives were split into two parts. Before and After.

"Toby." Veronica reached out and took his hand, and he tried to not show his surprise at the physical contact. "Honestly… we can never repay you for everything you do for her. If it weren't for you…"

Her voice trailed off into nothingness, and Toby saw her swallow. What was it about this family that made it so unacceptable to show any form of emotion? Even when their child's sanity was hanging by a thread, the Hastings' still seemed intent on not letting anyone look into their soul.

"She's my whole life, Mrs. Hastings," he said simply. "Without her… I wouldn't know myself from a hole in the ground."

They fell silent. Neither of the Hastings' doubted the truth of his words. They had seen the way he looked at her. The tenderness in his eyes, the passion, the shameless abandon. It had always been that way, and it hadn't wavered since this whole ordeal began.

And they had seen how she looked at him. How even now he could light up her whole face, make her smile when she'd been difficult and closed off all day. Only he could bring out in old Spencer in her. If only for a moment.

A small, frightened noise suddenly erupted from behind Toby, and immediately he abandoned his chair. He had to fight the instinct to rush over to her, knowing she did better with slow, easy movements.

"Hey," he said gently, moving over to sit beside her. One hand rested on her knee and the other curled around her hip. "It's okay. We're at your parents' house."

He watched her take in her surroundings, and let out an unconscious breath of relief. She'd had an episode right before she fell asleep, but now there was stable look in her gaze and he knew she'd be all right for now. He smiled, reaching out to smooth a strand of hair away from her eyes.

She mumbled something, and he leaned in closer.

"What?"

"I want to go home," she spoke in a tiny voice.

"Okay," he said at once, standing up and offering her his hand.

Her home was with him now. Back in July, when everything happened, she had been hospitalized for weeks on end. Her physical injuries had been minimal, but the damage done her to mind had kept her in the psyche ward longer than Toby was able to stand. She hadn't done well in this sterilized, impersonal environment, where strange men in white coats looked at her like she was crazy and talked about her as if she wasn't in the room.

When the talk began of having her transferred to Radley, he snapped.

"She's not going back there," he had told her parents through gritted teeth.

"Toby, we don't like it any more than you do," Veronica assured him, "But we're at our wits end. She can't be alone even for five minutes; she needs constant care. We can't give her that."

"I can," he said impulsively. "I'll take care of her."

"You have a job, just like the rest of us," Peter argued, "It's unrealistic to think–"

"I'll figure something out."

"Toby–"

"She's not going back there!"

They had never seen him angry like this before, his eyes blazing, his voice shaking with controlled rage. Spencer's timid, soft-spoken boyfriend… who they had always privately believed to be somewhat of a pushover. Now it was crystal clear that he was anything but.

Somehow they had confused being genuinely kind and altruistic with not having a backbone.

Veronica squeezed her eyes shut. "Okay," she whispered. "Okay."

Peter stared at her as if she'd lost her mind, but when his wife shot him a look that could kill, he kept his mouth shut. Eventually even he gave his consent.

And so, by the end of the summer, she was moved in with him. He had worked out a schedule at work were he only had to be on site four days a week, and he'd found someone to stay with her on the days he was gone. Mondays it was either Peter or Veronica. Tuesdays and Wednesdays it was Emily and Hanna, respectively. Both girls had arranged their classes at Hollis to make time for the friend that took the brunt for them. And on Thursdays, Jason would come.

Just like he showed her parents just now, he had taught her friends and brother the techniques on how to comfort her. How to reach her when her mind played awful tricks on her, making her relive her horrors over and over again.

Fridays were his day off, and he would take her to her weekly appointments with Dr. Sullivan. So far, they weren't exactly doing wonders, though. She would sit on the couch in hostile silence, after refusing to even go in if he wasn't in the room with her. It was as if she was so terrified of being asked to verbally relive her trauma that she just shut down completely. Dr. Sullivan remained patient, but privately she confessed to Toby that she was at a loss and felt that he could help Spencer far more than she could.

"You're the one she chose," the doctor told him while Spencer was using the bathroom.

"To do what?" he wanted to know, although deep down he already knew.

"To trust that you'll love her through anything," was her answer. "My guess is that when and if she decides to talk, it will be with you and you alone."

Currently, Veronica looked almost heartbroken that her youngest daughter wanted to leave the house she had lived for over eighteen years for the place she'd been only been at for a few short weeks. Nevertheless, she hugged her, cradling the back of her daughter's head for a moment before stepping back and allowing her husband to embrace the girl.

"I'll see you Monday, champ," Peter spoke with uncharacteristic gentleness.

Both the Hastings' gave Toby a thankful nod before he placed his hand in the small of Spencer's back and led her outside. It was strange how they felt so indebted to him, so endlessly grateful for his ability to handle the tragic mess their once golden child had become, but still couldn't muster the courage to give the kid a hug.

After everything, he still called them Mr. and Mrs. Hastings.

* * *

October  
  
Jason tried his very best to ignore the pins and needles attacking his right foot. He attempted to stay as still as possible, not wanting to disturb his dark-haired half-sister as she leaned against him in the quiet.

She had been fine all day. She'd been somewhat talkative, read her books, watched reruns of Friends and even smiled once or twice. At one point she had even sort of reminded him of the bossy kid next door – the one he'd butted heads with on more than one occasion while they were growing up. Secretly, Jason had always sort of admired her spunk, but it wasn't until he was a grown man that he realized he'd been drawn to it because he recognized it in himself.

But then it happened. Something set her off – he didn't know what – and she disappeared it a world that was entirely her own. She buried her face in her arms, curled up into a ball and swayed neurotically back and forth, terrified gasps coming from deep within her.

For a moment he felt paralyzed with fear, but then he remembered Toby's step-by-step instructions.

_Say her name. Touch her shoulder. If she seems okay with that, wrap your arms around her and try to make her feel safe._

"How long?" Jason had wanted to know. He'd noticed how Toby kept her close long after she stopped hyperventilating. She would seem calm on the outside, but Jason knew out of experience that if they let go too soon, it left her feeling confused and vulnerable. More often than not, she would relapse into an episode within the hour.

"She'll let you know," Toby told him, "You hold her until she lets you know she'll be okay on her own."

And indeed, Jason had seen it. He'd seen it with himself, with Emily and Hanna, and with Peter and Veronica. She would stay in their arms for a long time, until she suddenly lifted her head and gently broke free, usually to get a glass of water. After that she typically avoided eye contact for a few minutes. It had broken his heart when he realized it was because she was embarrassed.

With Toby, it was slightly different. Instead of moving away, she would push closer. She'd be resting in his embrace like a rag doll, and suddenly her arms would reach around him. Her face would bury itself in his neck or his shoulder, and she'd donate into the embrace instead of just taking from it. She never walked away from him. Even after they loosened their hold on each other, she would stay nearby.

Jason glanced down at her head resting against him, her straggly curls splayed across his shoulder. She had been calm for while now, and he knew she was in that in-between stage where she was no longer being confronted with her demons, but not quite ready to face the real world yet either.

His head shifted at the sound of the front door opening behind him. He couldn't turn far enough to see who it was without disturbing Spencer, but soon he was met with the familiar sounds of Toby hanging up his jacket and tossing his keys in their usual spot.

The carpenter smiled slightly at the sight before him. Spencer tucked underneath her brother's arm on the couch, her legs pulled up against her chest and her hands resting on her knees. She didn't look up at him, and when Jason moved to get up so Toby could take his place, the younger man stopped him with a short shake of his head.

He sat down on the coffee table across from them, and reached out to place one hand on Spencer's bare foot.

"Hey, beautiful."

At the sound of his voice, she lunged forward. He was there to catch her, draping her across his lap and pushing her tousled hair away from her face with one hand. She smiled at him, and Jason marveled at how a smile could be so happy, and yet so sad.

Jason stood, walking towards the bathroom, not really in need of it but wanting to give the young couple some space. He was startled to feel tears prickle in the corners of his eyes.

Damn kids. Sometimes he thought they knew more about love than he ever would.

He returned to the main area of the loft a few minutes later, seeing that the brown-eyed girl and the blue-eyed boy were in the same position as the one he'd left them in. Toby still held her across his lap, but Jason noticed instantly the atmosphere in the room was very different, though he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

And then he heard it. A soft giggle. Her giggle.

"How was your day?" Toby was asking her.

"Good," Spencer answered, and Jason felt a small tingle of pride that seemed almost ridiculous under the circumstances. It _had_ been a good day for her. Only at the very end had it gone wrong…

"Yeah?"

She murmured affirmatively, and he leaned in and kissed her.

"What about you? How was your day?" she asked softly when they broke apart, her finger trailing his jaw.

"Well…" He kissed her again, "I'm only just getting to the highlight right about now."

And there it was again. Her light, feathery giggle. Jason wished he could catch it in a jar, give it to her parents and friends, to all the people who wished they could elicit that sound from her lips.

Ten minutes later, the pair was in the kitchen making pasta. Although she was remarkably calmer now that her boyfriend was around (her movements were always more awkward and hesitant when he was gone; she would startle more easily and mumble rather than talk), the somber look had returned to Spencer's eyes. Even Toby couldn't make her stay carefree for long.

"You sure you don't want to stay for dinner?" he inquired.

"Nah, I promised my mom I'd stop by her place." It was a blatant lie, but Jason couldn't stand the thought of butting in on their time together. He dropped a kiss on his sister's head. "See ya, Spence."

"I'll walk you out," Toby offered, after a glance at Spencer to check if she'd be all right alone in the room when it was getting dark outside. Sometimes she didn't make anything of it, and other imes he would return to find her trembling on the floor.

"She reacts well to you," Toby said once they were out of earshot. "I don't worry as much when you're with her."

Jason failed to mask his surprise. He often felt so helpless around her that it was hard to feel like he was doing anything right. He studied the younger man carefully.

"I take it her parents aren't handling it very well?"

Toby sighed. It felt wrong to speak ill of the Hastings' when they were finally making an effort to put their daughter's needs above their own. One day a week off work – even if it was for the two of them combined – was a huge deal for them. "They're trying. But you know how appearance is everything to them. It's hard for them to accept this is who she is now. She senses that, and it causes a rift between them."

Jason nodded. It was only too easy to imagine. He hesitated. "What about Melissa?"

Toby's shoulders tensed, and Jason immediately regretted asking.

Melissa had been involved in some shady business, but in the end everyone agreed it was obvious she had been trying to act in Spencer's best interests all along. However, Melissa was still Melissa. She loved her younger sister to the point that she would risk her life trying to protect her, but she also couldn't stand her. She remained petty and jealous, and had dropped more than one less than subtle hint that she believed Spencer was faking her episodes – or "fits" as she called them – for attention.

She had even lost it once. Right in the middle of one of Spencer's episodes, Melissa had screamed for her to man up, pull herself together and return to the life she had so meticulously planned out for herself. This was back when Spencer was still in the hospital, and not even Toby had been able to calm her hysteria after this cruel and unnecessary outburst. Tears had streamed down his face as he watched the doctors sedate her, and afterwards he'd made the Hastings parents promise they would never allow Melissa to be alone with Spencer under any circumstances.

"Haven't seen her in weeks," Toby said tersely. "She's not handling it at all."

Jason wasn't surprised.

It was Toby's turn to ask a question now.

"Have you heard from…?"

"Alison?" Jason shook his head. "No. Nothing."

There was nothing to be said about Alison, other than she was good at running. Lying and hiding were the things she excelled at, and while his mother was still hopeful she would come home, Jason had given up yearning for her presence in his life. She was his sister and he would always love her, but he also couldn't ignore the role she had played in the events that had transpired on that tragic night. How she had taken the coward's way out, while his other sister had stayed and would probably pay the price for the rest of her life.

"I should…" Toby jerked his head towards the kitchen, where Spencer was still hunched over the stove. She moved with none of that brisk Spencer-esque confidence, but other than that he might as well have been looking at a scene from Before.

"Of course. See you next week."

"Yeah. Thanks, Jason."

_To be continued…_


	2. November & December

A/N: Guys, seriously, I have no words for how kind you've all been to me. It's like I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, haha.

For the people that said that last chapter made them cry or shake, I'm really sorry but I doubt the next chapters are going to be any better. We're dealing with some pretty harrowing stuff here. All I can say is I'm sorry and if you want to blame someone, blame my muse. Because sadly, I have no control over it. If I did, they would be laughing and making out all the time, I swear…

* * *

November 

The cold November air bit into Veronica's cheeks as she knocked on the door of the loft. It wasn't long before Toby opened, stepping aside to let her in.

"Hi," he said quietly, and Veronica spotted distress on his features. "She's not having a good day. She…"

He glanced over her shoulder, and Veronica turned to see her daughter's tiny frame on the couch. She was still in her pajamas, staring off into space with an empty look in her eyes that made Veronica want to turn around and seek refuge in her car. But then Toby moved towards her, giving Veronica no choice but to follow.

"Spencer?" he said softly, as if he didn't want to disturb her. "Your mom's here."

She barely reacted. Veronica reached out to smooth out the creases in the blanket draped across her daughter's lap, just to give herself something to do.

"Hi, sweetheart," she tried carefully.

Spencer's head turned in the direction of her voice, but she didn't meet her eyes. Instead, her gaze followed Toby as he went back to the kitchen to grab some last minute things. Veronica stood by awkwardly, wanting to help, wishing she had the answers to questions she was too afraid to ask.

Toby returned soon after, kneeling in front of his delicate girlfriend and reaching for her hands with his.

"I'll see you tonight, okay?"

It was as if she didn't hear him, and Veronica could easily detect the pain in his eyes. He leaned in and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering longer than they typically would have if this were an average day. She sat there passively, but when he moved to get up, she suddenly reached out and grabbed his shirt with both hands.

Immediately, he sat down next to her on the couch, pulling her so far into his embrace that she was halfway in his lap. His hand slowly trailed from her scalp all the way down her back and up into her hair again. His lips nestled into her shoulder, kissing her though her shirt.

"I have to go," he said softly after a moment, "I'll check in on my lunch break, I promise."

But Spencer just held him tighter, whimpering and slightly shaking her head. Her fingertips dug into his shoulders in a way that was almost painful.

"Baby…" he said helplessly, the term of endearment falling from his lips like it was the most natural thing in the world. "It's work. You know I'd rather stay here, with you, but I can't…"

She didn't answer, and didn't make any movement to loosen her death grip on him. Toby waited a minute before he made to get up, but she clung to him like a baby koala, causing him to sink back down after a short scuffle.

"I have to go to work," he repeated brokenly, hoping his words would be able to reach her. He honestly didn't know if he had it in him to physically remove himself from her claws. "I wish I could stay, I do. You have no idea… But I have to go now."

"No," she wailed, speaking her first word all morning. It cut through Toby's gut even before it was followed by a long, tormented sob. His body reacted by pulling her closer before his brain could tell him this might not be a good idea.

"I'm sorry," he said desperately, brushing her tears away with his thumbs, feeling his own eyes spill over. "I'm so sorry…"

He felt increasing despair course through him as he watched his apologies do nothing to soothe her. How was he supposed to walk away when she was looking him like he would never come back once he was out the door?

"I love you so much," he choked out. "You know that, right?"

But she was smart. She knew he was saying goodbye. It was just for the day, but that didn't make any difference. Sometimes a day felt like a lifetime to her.

Fresh tears graced her cheeks as she shook her head urgently, not because she didn't know, but because it made the thought of being without him that much more unbearable.

When he made a last attempt to get up, the sound that came from her throat was almost animalistic. A crazed, low cry – like a frightened creature trapped in the dark.

It undid him. He broke, bringing her closer, pressing his lips against her face. "Okay," he whispered, "Okay. I'll take a sick day. It's okay."

But something ugly had been ignited inside her, and there was no stopping it. She clung to him for dear life and cried for a long, long time, devastated sobs wracking her entire body. The deep sadness within her was like a beast that needed to come out, or it would eat her alive.

He did nothing to shush her. He just held her in his arms, hating how it was everything he could do and yet still not enough to ease her suffering. Spencer was a severely traumatized human being – anyone who spent five minutes with her could see that. But Toby had come to realize that people often underestimated the grief she also carried. There were no words for the horror she had witnessed… but it was more than just that. The horror held hostage parts of her mind, but the grief took pieces of her soul.

Although he knew the cause of her tears was no longer because she feared he would up and leave her, it didn't make him feel any less guilty or pained or furious. He had given up trying to keep his own tears at bay – it just wasn't any use when she cried like that. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he grew conscious of Veronica moving away from them. He blinked, almost having forgotten she was even here. Their eyes met across the room in a brief instant before they both looked away. It was hard to maintain eye contact when the person that had brought them together was in such shambles.

Veronica stepped out of the room. She needed to get out of there. She couldn't take it anymore, couldn't take her daughter's heart-wrenching sobs and couldn't take the notion that she had absolutely no idea how to help her.

She blindly walked into the bedroom, immediately moving to tidy the unmade bed. Maybe if her hands kept busy, she could escape the unrest in her head.

Her restlessness guided her into the adjacent bathroom next. She scrubbed the toilet and cleaned the showerhead, not taking the time to dwell on the fact that she hadn't done either of these household tasks in her own home since they'd hired their first maid when she was pregnant with Melissa. For now, it gave her more relief than she ever would have thought possible.

The bathroom was spic and span sooner than she would have liked. Desperate to keep busy, she opened the cabinets above the sink, figuring they could use some reorganizing. Her fingers went to work mindlessly, categorizing medication boxes and hand creams by color and shape because her brain to was too tired to think up a more logical system.

She clicked her tongue impatiently when she dropped a few items into the sink. She froze when her eyes landed on one of the tiny parcels, reaching out to hold it in her hand.

Birth control pills.

Veronica stared at them, feeling somewhat silly at her own dismay. She had known they were sexually active before all this happened, but somehow she didn't think…

It took her a moment to realize why she didn't feel more outraged. And if she didn't know Toby – if she hadn't watched him love and care for Spencer with no reservations and no exceptions, both Before and After – perhaps she would have felt just that.

But Veronica didn't doubt that if they were having sex, it was because Spencer wanted it. Any other nineteen-year-old kid would have hit the road months ago, but this boy was in the next room, cradling her sobbing child like she was his lifeline. He would never manipulate her or take advantage of her, and Veronica would have bet her life that it only happened on Spencer's terms.

She sighed when another sensation spread through her body, almost knocking her off her feet when she realized what it was. Happiness. Not the overwhelming kind – but genuine, delightful happiness nonetheless. Happiness that her daughter could still experience the joy of making love to a man who so openly adored her. Did that make her a terrible mother?

She shook her head and quickly placed everything back into the cabinet. She figured she'd done enough snooping for one day.

Apprehensively, she made her way back to the living room, taking notice of the quiet. She approached the couch silently, feeling her heart constrict at the sight before her.

Spencer and her boyfriend had fallen into a restless sleep on the couch, undoubtedly exhausted from the extreme emotions they'd been catapulted into dealing with earlier. Toby was on his back with an arm flung around her as she cuddled into his chest, her fingers still clasped around the material of his T-shirt. His neck was at an awkward angle and his lips were buried in the hair atop her head, as if he had fallen asleep mid-kiss.

Veronica's hand went to brush back her daughter's hair. She lingered for a moment, then pulled the blanket higher on the girl's shoulders and headed for the kitchen.

She quickly whipped up something to eat with whatever she could find in the fridge. It didn't seem like much, but at least they wouldn't have to worry about cooking when they woke up. She scribbled a note, and with one last look at the sleeping duo she was out the door.

She was not needed here.

* * *

December

Turning off the shower, Toby wrapped a towel around his waist and set one and then the other foot down on the bathroom floor. Reaching for a second towel to dry his hair, he glanced at Spencer, who was numbly applying mascara at the sink.

She hardly ever wore makeup anymore. He supposed she didn't see much point. It wasn't as if she never went outside, though. She thrived from taking long walks up in the woods that overlooked Rosewood. Nothing made her happier than a picnic in their favorite spot on a sunny day.

But today, they weren't spending the day outside, just the two of them. His heart ached when he saw that her hands were trembling just a little.

He kept one eye on her as he got dressed in a fresh button-down shirt and his most formal pair of dark jeans. Spencer was still in her bathrobe, but her makeup was flawless and she'd taken the effort to straighten her hair. Now she was attempting to clasp a necklace her father had given her junior year behind her neck. Toby watched as she struggled, the shaking of her fingers making this simple task close to impossible. He could practically feel her frustration rising.

He sighed and slowly moved to stand behind her, his hands covering hers and closing the fastening at her neck. He tried to catch her eyes in the mirror, but she kept them strictly on the floor.

"Spencer…"

He gently turned her around, lifting her up and setting her down on the sink top. He moved between her legs, still trying to make eye contact. His hands ran down her arms, eventually settling at her hips. At this point he felt like he would have sold his soul to the devil if it would make her look at him.

"It's just Christmas dinner with your family," he said soothingly. "It's going to be okay, I promise. I'll stay by your side the whole time, and if ever, at any point, you've had enough… you just look at me and I will have you out of there faster than you can say Christmas cookie."

Slowly, she raised her eyes to meet his. He met her gaze evenly, letting her know he meant every word he said.

And then, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his. He pulled her closer, running his fingers through her hair, reveling in her familiar smell. No matter how she was different, her smell was still the same, and it comforted him more than he could put into words.

She was smiling a little when they broke apart. She fiddled with a button on his shirt. "You look handsome."

"Yeah? Good enough for Christmas at the fancy Hastings house?"

She nodded, running her hand down the front of his shirt-clad chest. When she spoke her voice was barely audible. "You're perfect."

"Well, what are you wearing?" he wanted to know, tickling her side gently. "The red?"

"I can't tell you," she said, her raspy voice taking on a sexy quality that he hadn't heard in forever. "It's a surprise."

He went weak in the knees when he realized she was teasing him. He smiled at her, wishing he could freeze the moment and capture the silly grin on her face. Save it for the days when it seemed like she would never smile again.

"Okay then," he said, setting her down on her feet again and giving her a gentle push towards the bedroom. "Surprise me."

She laughed softly, and it was like music to his ears.


	3. January & February

A/N: You guys are the best. I am so floored by the enthusiastic feedback this story is getting. Thank you so much! I was so nervous about this, I can't tell you how relieved I am that you guys think I'm doing okay with the characterizations for these particular circumstances. Once again, I'm very sorry if I've caused you any tears (even if they're good tears, it still kind of makes me feel bad, haha). I know it's sad – it was emotionally draining for me to write at times, but like I've said before, the idea latched onto me and simply refused to go away.

Let us proceed with January and February!

* * *

January_  
_  
The wind was howling outside Emily's window, instinctively making her shiver even though it was nice and toasty inside her parents' house. It was the worst blizzard Rosewood had seen in over a decade, and this was only the beginning. The news was buzzing with the suspicion that it would only get worse over the course of the evening.

The microwave beeped, indicating her hot chocolate was ready, and at the exact same moment her cell phone went off on the other side of the kitchen. She looked back and forth between the two obnoxious noises for a moment before deciding the phone had priority.

"Hanna?" she queried after seeing the caller ID.

"Yeah, it's me."

She sounded distraught, and Emily's heart leaped out of her chest. They always immediately assumed the worst – she, Hanna, Spencer. They were linked together for life that way.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked fearfully, before something hit her that caused her anxiety to triple. "Isn't today your day with Spencer?"

Hanna made an affirmative noise. "She's being really weird. Even weirder that usual," she added in a hushed tone.

"Hanna!"

Emily groaned inwardly. She adored her blond friend to death, but that didn't mean she didn't curse the girl's complete lack of tact on an almost daily basis.

"What? She can't hear me. She's totally out of it."

"Call Toby," Emily suggested. "He'll know what to do."

"That's just it, Em. We can't reach him."

Emily paused. "What do mean you can't reach him?"

"I mean," Hanna explained slowly, like she was talking to an idiot, "He's not picking up his phone. She wanted to call him to make sure he was okay in this weather. He's been unreachable for over and hour, and she is losing it."

Emily's hand came up to rest against her forehead in despair. She wished she knew what to do. She really did.

"Em, you have to come over here. She's not listening to anything I say."

"Hanna, have you looked outside?" Emily said in disbelief. "You're crazy if you think I'm leaving the house in that."

"Oh my God, Emily! I'm not playing around, and I'm not taking this lightly. If you could see her…"

Her voice trailed off, and Emily sighed hesitantly. Her parents had spent the day in Philly, and had opted to check into a hotel there instead of trying to make it home in the storm. She had promised them she'd stay inside when they called, but now she found herself already searching for her warmest winter coat and moonboots. The thought of Spencer going through that much distress would have led her to the pits of hell.

"Sit tight. I'm on my way."

Emily regretted her resolve more than once. The roads were in such bad shape that she'd made the genius decision of going on foot. It wasn't far, she told herself. In good circumstances it took her less than ten minutes.

Today it took her closer to forty. Her fingers were numb as they finally rapped on the door of the loft. Hanna quickly opened, ushering her inside and pushing the door shut behind them as fast as she could. She hastily helped Emily dispose of all her excess clothing and pushed a mug of hot coffee in her hands.

"Thanks," Emily mumbled. "Still no word from Toby?"

Hanna wearily shook her head, her eyes looking past Emily, who reflexively turned her head.

Spencer was huddled by the windowsill, her knees against her chest and her arms around her legs. Her eyes followed the storm outside, and Emily's heart sank when she realized what she was so desperately looking for. A certain tan truck, and more specifically – the young man inside it.

Quietly, she moved until she was standing beside the other girl. "Hey, Spence."

Spencer started, looking up at her with terrified eyes.

"It's me," Emily said quickly, holding up her hands in surrender. "Can I sit down?"

Spencer didn't answer, didn't even react. Emily knew not to take it personally, and slowly took a seat beside her.

She struggled to find something to say. It was ridiculous. Ludicrous. She had come all this way, literally braved a storm… and now that she was here, no words would come to her. It was as if it didn't matter that Emily had come, because Spencer was still far, far away.

"I'm sure he's fine," she finally said lamely. "He's probably just stranded somewhere and his phone died or something."

Spencer immediately started shaking her head, not once or twice but repeatedly, and covered her ears with her hands. Emily felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand to attention. This was a Spencer she didn't know. Nothing could have prepared her for this Spencer.

Emily knew all about Spencer's episodes. She'd seen Toby deal with them, and she'd had to handle several on her own while Toby was at work. She knew by now that if she stuck to the techniques Toby had taught her, Spencer would eventually make it through. She would be lost to them for while, yes – but she would always find her way back.

This Spencer was drastically different. This Spencer wasn't being tortured and tormented by demons of the past, causing her to completely shut out the world around her. This Spencer was teetering on the edge of her sanity because of things happening now, in this moment, and Emily's heart stood still with a sudden, venomous realization.

If – God forbid – the blue-eyed carpenter didn't come home, neither would the girl he'd left behind. She would disappear into her own horrors forever, and there would be no bringing her back.

Emily eyed her inconsolable friend and wracked her brain on what to do. She tried to think like Toby. What would he do if he were here? How would he offer Spencer the comfort she so obviously craved?

A wave of calm washed over Emily. She knew what he would do.

He would hold her.

Timidly, Emily reached out and placed her hand on Spencer's back. The other girl flinched and shrugged her off.

Refusing to be discouraged, Emily leaned in closer and attempted to wrap her arms around her. Spencer grabbed one of her hands with lightning speed and shoved it away none too gently.

Emily gave up. She got up and crossed the room to join Hanna, who was shaking her head helplessly after having witnessed the whole exchange. It was pathetic. Two people combined were just as helpless as one.

Time ticked by, so slowly it seemed as if it were going backwards. Three cell phones rested in the table in the living room, begging to go off. But there was only bitter silence.

Emily and Hanna sat on the couch quietly. They hadn't spoken a word in almost an hour, and Spencer hadn't moved in much longer. She remained rooted in her spot by the window, unnaturally still. The only difference between now and two hours ago was that she was resting her head on her arms, her face, as always, tilted towards the blizzard.

After what seemed like endless motionlessness, Hanna suddenly moved beside Emily, who immediately turned her head to follow her friend's gaze. Spencer was sitting up now – her back straight as an arrow, both her hands resting on the glass as her eyes flickered back and forth across the storm. Without warning, she suddenly scrambled up and before Emily and Hanna could blink she'd rushed to the front door and flung it open.

The two girls on the couch reflexively jumped up to see what the commotion was about, but before they reached her, she had bolted out into the snow like lightning.

"Spencer!" they cried out in unison, and Hanna added a disbelieving, "She's out there on her socks!"

But then they saw it. The tan truck was slowly pulling up in the driveway. They stood by as they watched Spencer descend the steps and run towards it. The car door opened and out came Toby, just in time to catch her as she flung herself into his arms. He lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as her own arms went around his neck. For a moment they just stood there like this, but then he started to move forward, slowly making his way through storm while he held her against him.

They stumbled through the doorway, and the girls hurried to shut the door to protect the loft from any further exposure.

"Get her a blanket," Toby requested, and both Emily and Hanna jumped.

He sat Spencer down on a stool at the kitchen counter. He pulled off her wet socks, throwing them carelessly to the floor, and wrapped the blanket around her as soon it was handed to him.

She was shivering, but he suspected it was as much from shock as it was from the cold. Her fingers trailed across his face like she couldn't believe he was actually here.

"Why didn't you call?" she whimpered. "Why did you do that to me?"

He grabbed her, leaning his forehead against hers. "I'm so sorry. I was in such a hurry to get home to you that I left my phone at work. The roads were terrible, it took me five hours to get here."

"You can't do that to me," she repeated, silent tears coursing down her face now. By some miracle she had managed to hold herself together up to this point, but it didn't surprise anyone that the relief at seeing Toby safe and sound was her undoing.

"I know." His voice broke. "I'm so sorry, baby. But you know I'm always with you. I'm always right here." He took her hand and laid it over her heart. "Whenever you're sad or lonely or scared, I'm always right here."

Emily felt a lump rise in her throat as she watched how Spencer took in her lover's monumental words. Somewhere along the line Hanna's hand had slipped into hers and she felt herself squeezing it back as if that would help keep her emotions in check.

None of them had touched anything that resembled food in hours, yet when Toby offered to make them something it was obvious no one had much of an appetite. Hanna and Emily clearly wouldn't be going anywhere with the weather being what it was, and they collectively decided to just go to bed and put this awful day behind them.

"You three girls take the bed," Toby offered. "I'll sleep on the air mattress on the floor."

Everyone knew without being told that he would be sleeping in the same room, on Spencer's side of the bed. It made neither Emily nor Hanna bat an eyelash.

Toby exited the bathroom a while later, smiling in spite of himself. The three girls were lying in the bed, on their backs. Hanna was is the middle, and was going on and on in a long-winded tale about her favorite nail salon while the other two followed the conversation with sleepy eyes.

He settled down on the mattress he'd spent the better part of fifteen minutes blowing up, and Spencer turned her body towards him at once. He kissed her goodnight and nuzzled their noses together.

"Em, can you get the light?" he asked, running his fingers through his girlfriend's hair and smiling reassuringly at her.

Emily hit the switch and the room was instantly dark. She tried to get comfortable, pulling the covers around her and fluffing her pillow once or twice. Next to her, Hanna was out like a light almost instantly, kicking and thrashing as per usual. Emily cursed inwardly. They knew better than to put Hanna in the middle. What the hell were they thinking?

A melancholy feeling washed over her, and Emily squeezed her eyes shut to keep from crying. They never did sleepovers anymore. The most obvious reason was that Spencer did not do well with nights away from Toby, and no matter how sweet he was, a sleepover with a boy in the room just didn't have the same feel to it. But there was another prominent reason, and it was one that nobody ever talked about. Sleepovers reminded them too much of a different time – when they were still naïve enough believe they would be able to put their terrifying high school years behind them one day. When they'd had hope that they would make it out unscathed and they all had a bright future ahead of them. It was a time when their fragile trio was an inseparable quartet, and a small brunette with green eyes had brought laughter to all their lives.

Despite the tears underneath her eyelashes, Emily must have dozed off eventually because, the next thing she grew conscious of was sunlight adorning her face and a sharp elbow poking her in the ribs. She pushed it away before she heard Hanna hiss in her ear, "Em, wake up. Check it out."

She groaned, but slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Hanna was way on the other side of the bed and Emily was met with a slight moment of panic. Where was Spencer?

Hanna obviously wasn't concerned. Quite the obvious – she was grinning from ear to ear, motioning her side of the bed with her thumb. Emily leaned over, feeling a smile wash over her face at the sight before her.

Toby and Spencer on the single person's air mattress. He was on his back with her entirely on top of him, her head tucked under his chin. They were both still fast asleep.

"When did this happen?" Emily inquired softly.

Hanna shrugged. "No idea. I woke up and she wasn't next to me, so I looked over and…" She grinned again. "Cutest thing ever, right? We should totally take a picture."

"No, Hanna." Emily shook her head in warning. There were times when she would get annoyed by Hanna's occasional lack of sensitivity concerning Spencer's mental problems, and sometimes she believed Spencer actually appreciated that the blonde didn't walk on eggshells around her.

"Yeah, you're right." Hanna sighed, looking disappointed. "Let's not wake them up."

Emily looked back at the sleeping babes. "I wouldn't dream of it."

* * *

February_  
_  
Toby's eyelids flew open, and for a moment his pupils moved back and forth across the ceiling in the bedroom. His heart beating a little faster than usual, and he tried desperately to hold onto whatever he had been dreaming as it slipped away from him. It was no use, though. He could still feel the dejection his nightmare had left behind, but not the dream itself.

Instinctively, his hand reached out across the mattress, wanting the reassurance of her softness in the night. It took him but a split second to realize she wasn't there. Sometimes it felt like he was more conscious of her whereabouts than he was of his own.

He sat up frantically, not taking the time to realize that the panic coursing through his veins might be a tad extreme. His heart rate slowed down when he spotted her silhouette sitting by the window. Not taking his eyes off her, he pushed the covers off his legs and stumbled over to her.

"Spencer?" he requested her attention softly, wanting to check her state of mind so he would know how to approach her.

She reacted slowly but instantly, and when her eyes met his he saw at once that she was lucid. Sad and somewhat pensive, but lucid.

"What are you doing up?" he questioned carefully. Noticing the goosebumps on her bare arms, he grabbed his zip-up hoodie from the back of a chair and wrapped it around her shoulders.

She didn't answer, just pushed her arms into the sleeves of his sweater as he sat himself down in front of her. She inched a little closer, so he knew she wasn't shutting him out. She swallowed, and when she spoke her voice was exceptionally raspy.

"Will you promise me something?"

"Anything." It was a reflex. It was a given. Anything she asked, he would give.

She fiddled with a loose thread of the hoodie, avoiding his gaze. There was a far-away look in her eyes that made him suddenly apprehensive of what was coming.

"It's just…" she began carefully, "I need you to promise me that if this ever becomes too much for you, if…" Her voice trembled. "If _I_ ever become too much for you, you'll put yourself first and walk away."

He stared at her in disbelief, feeling this throat close as the impact of her words hit him full on.

"What are you talking about?"

"I don't know how you can stand to be around me sometimes," she cried out bitterly. "I hate that I'm like this, you deserve so much better than someone who can barely keep it together long enough to-"

"Stop it," he said sharply. "You stop that right now."

She flinched at his tone and he reached for her apologetically, but she pushed his hands away.

"You're not listening to me," she said, so quietly that he had to lean in closer to hear. "I can't bear the idea of you staying out of obligation. I can't do this if…" Her voice dropped to a whisper and she squeezed her eyes shut. "I don't want you to end up resenting me…"

He stared at her, and the only movement in the room was the solitary tear making its way down his cheek. He wanted to shout at her, he wanted to shake this nonsense out of her. With all the horrible things that had happened, he had never felt this level of powerlessness before.

"I still feel so lucky, every day." He didn't know where the words were coming from but they were like a waterfall erupting from his mouth. "You still light up my life, you still make my world go round. I know you think everything is different now, but you're still Spencer Hastings. You're still smart and funny and beautiful, and I still see you and I still know who you are."

She stopped him with a gentle hand against his chest, speaking quietly through gritted teeth. "Just promise me."

"Fine!" he blasted. "I promise! But it's a completely useless promise because it will never happen. I will never fall out of love with you, and I will never get enough of you because you make me too happy. Even now, Spencer. Especially now. I thank a God I don't even believe in every day that you made it out of that cabin alive. And yes, I hate what it's done to you, but only because it kills me that you're hurting so much. Not because of the impact it's had on my life."

She was hanging on to his every word, and when his rambling came to an end they stared at each other for a moment. He didn't know who moved first, but the next thing he was aware of was that he was kissing her. He pulled her all the way into his lap and she straddled him, her fingers twisting into his hair.

"Make love to me," she breathed against his mouth. "Please, just make love to me, Toby…"

He got up without loosening his grip on her, and gently lowered her to the bed. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes glazed over with desire and she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

The rest of the night was a blur.


	4. March & April

A/N: Again, thank you all for the wonderful reviews. It kind of blows my mind that you would take the time out of your day to click on a link and leave these encouraging words for me. From the bottom of my heart… thank you.

I do feel the need to warn you guys, though: there is mention of some extreme violence in this chapter. I don't go into detail about it, mostly because I don't feel it would bring anything to the story (except maybe shock value, which I despise), but also because I'm really sensitive to this stuff myself. It probably won't be a huge deal to some (most?) of you, but I wouldn't feel right to mentioning it.

FYI – this is the second to last chapter before the epilogue!

* * *

March

"Hey, Em," Toby greeted as he picked up his phone.

"Hey." She sniffled, and he wondered if she was getting a cold or if it was something more. "I… I just wanted to see how Spencer was doing today…"

His eyes reflexively sought out his girlfriend, who had fallen into a deep, troubled sleep on the couch a while before. She often slipped into a world of slumber when she had days like this. It was as if her body knew it was a way to escape the turmoil that was raging through her mind, and just completely shut down.

"Not great." Toby sighed heavily. "Today's one of her difficult days. I had to cancel on Jason this morning."

Ever since the incident with her mother a few months prior, Toby had given up trying to go to work on the days when she woke up downcast and frightened. When she followed him around the loft in zombie-mode, refusing eye contact but clinging to his hand like a lost child. Books didn't interest her on these days; neither did watching TV. The only thing she would allow was the serene rumble of his baritone as he read to her – Dostoyevsky or Catcher in the Rye or something equally familiar. He doubted she even listened very much to the meaning of the words, but the sound of his voice could usually soothe her enough to lull her to sleep.

He knew by now that there was nothing he could do to snap her out of this daze. He just had stay close to her, try not to make any loud noises or sudden movements, and wait for tomorrow to be better.

"Yeah, well…" Emily sniffled again. "That's to be expected, I guess."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. "Oh…" Emily said in a hushed voice. "I guess you don't know…"

"Don't know what?" He was genuinely confused. Was he missing something?

"Toby…" She took a deep breath, trying to get her voice under control. "Today's Aria's birthday."

Silence echoed through the loft. Toby's eyes once again went to his sleeping girlfriend, and they stayed there before several seconds after the numbness wore off.

"Oh God…" He leaned against the kitchen counter in defeat. "I had no idea."

He heard a squeak on the other end of the line, and he knew she was crying. "How are you holding up?" he asked helplessly.

She took a slow, deep breath, attempting to get herself under control long enough to answer his question. "It's hard. I didn't go to class today. Neither did Hanna."

He nodded despondently, even though he knew she couldn't see him.

"Does… does Spencer ever talk about her?"

Toby sighed, setting himself down at the kitchen counter with the strength of an old man. "Not really. It's too soon for her, I think. She can't even look at pictures of her. It's just… it's too soon."

"What about…" Emily hesitated. "what happened? Has she talked about that?"

"Not a word." His fingers picked at a course spot on the table, craving the distraction.

Only Spencer knew exactly what had gone down in that cabin eight months ago. Alison had managed to escape before things got really ugly, and the other two were dead.

She refused to relive it long enough to talk about it – not with him, not with her friends and not with Dr. Sullivan – but the police had managed to piece together most of the facts from the crime scene and the autopsy reports. Aria's mangled body had spoken for itself. How she had been stabbed repeatedly, raped and eventually shot in the face before her aggressor turned the gun on himself.

Spencer had been there for the whole thing, watching powerlessly as these horrors unfolded in front of her very eyes. She had been gagged with her wrists tied to a pillar in the middle of the room. Toby knew she had never really made it out either. Part of her would always be stuck in that cabin on a harrowing summer night.

"It's still hard for Hanna and me…" Emily said hesitantly, not sure if she was allowed to complain when she had got off so easy. "It's hard that… we weren't there."

It dawned on him what she was getting at, and he felt his heart swell with sympathy and understanding. Emily and Hanna had been back in Rosewood, unsuspecting, while Spencer and Aria went through hell at the cabin. They had followed up on some lead that went nowhere; Toby didn't know the details. But he did know that every day for the rest of their lives, the two girls would have to live with themselves knowing that while their best friends were being tortured and maimed – one physically, the other emotionally – they had gone to bed, safe and warm and oblivious.

"It's not your fault, Em," Toby offered, hating how his words fell flat. He knew it wasn't something they would ever get over. They would always feel like they should have been in that cabin as well, almost like they belonged there, like the four of them were one person. The sting of having let the other two take the brunt for all of them – even if they'd had no idea it was happening at the time – was something they would have to endure for the rest of their lives. That was how the world worked. The innocent felt guilty, and the guilty only felt powerful.

Toby sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. He was no stranger to similar feelings of culpability. Sometimes he still couldn't look at Spencer without feeling bogged down by it. But it was different. He had spent that whole night in his truck, trying to escape his own feeling of restlessness as he checked every place he'd ever heard her mention in regards to the infamous terror organization known as "A". His unanswered phone calls had left him uneasy, and when her car was neither in her driveway nor in any of the girls', he had known deep down in his gut that something was terribly wrong.

He would never forgive himself for not finding her, even if rationally he knew it was impossible to locate a cabin he didn't even know existed. But at least he couldn't blame himself for not trying. He had driven until the sun came up the next day, until his phone went off and his world fell to pieces.

"I got a postcard from Ali," Emily changed the subject. "No return address."

Toby clenched his fists. That girl had some nerve. In all truthfulness it was a good thing no one knew her whereabouts. If he ever found out where he was hiding, he didn't trust himself not to track her down and strangle her with his own bare hands.

He supposed no one could really fault her for escaping when she had the chance. He'd selfishly wished on multiple occasions that Spencer had made the same choice, but she had stayed. She'd demonstrated loyalty and bravery beyond anything even he had thought her capable of, and it had taken a piece out of her that in all likelihood she would never get back.

It was only after Alison had fled that she'd done the unthinkable. That she'd committed he ultimate act of betrayal and selfishness. She had jumped on a bus to God knows where, and it was only after she put a fair distance between herself and the unspeakable things going down in that cabin that she called the authorities from a pay phone in Bucks County. By the time the police barged into the cabin, Spencer was the only one still breathing. Broken and damaged forever, but alive.

"I should go," Emily said quietly, bringing him back from awful memories of rushing to the hospital and finding Spencer in a catatonic state. Feeling torn between incomprehensive rage at the trials she'd had to endure, and overwhelming relief that she was still here.

"Are you going to be okay?" he asked, his voice equally soft.

Emily sighed. "This is our life now, Toby. It's not about being okay. It's about trying to make it through one day at a time and hoping that someday it will hurt just a little bit less."

His eyes stung at the truth of her words. "Take care of yourself, Emily."

He sat there for a long time after he hung up the phone, staring off into space and barely moving. Finally, he slowly made his way over the couch and looked down at Spencer's sleeping form. It haunted him to no end to think about how close had come to losing her. How if things had been just a little bit different, his life would have been over.

He ran a hand over her hair and bent over to brush his lips against her temple. Then he grabbed his book and settled into a nearby chair, where he would stay until she woke up.

* * *

April_  
_  
Spring finally came to Rosewood in early April. Cloudy skies and a chilly wind were replaced with sun and warmth and people sitting happily outside at the tables at the Brew.

Toby and Spencer rarely did that anymore. Not only was it sensory overload for Spencer, there was also always a big chance of running into people they would rather avoid. Old classmates and teammates. Teachers. Church members. People with pity in their eyes, who never knew what to say or if they should say anything at all.

Instead, they took coffee and sandwiches to go, and headed up to their favorite spot in the woods of Rosewood. It was quiet up there, and it could make Spencer smile on most days. Today she was dressed in a navy blue dress, a brown belt and her brown equestrian boots. Toby admired the sunlight on her face, making her as lazy and relaxed as she would get. They had finished their meal some time ago, and now they just sat there together, her between his legs and leaning back against his chest.

Toby craned his neck a little to get a better look at the expression on her face. On the surface she looked quite calm, but he knew her better than that. Her demons may be in hibernation for now, but he could practically see the wheels in her brain turning round and round. She was definitely mulling something over.

"Penny for your thoughts?" he murmured in her ear.

Her dark head turned slightly in the direction of his voice, so he knew she'd heard him even when it took her a while to answer.

"I'm bored, Toby."

"Okay," he said without hesitation, "We could take a walk, or just head back home or…?"

"No." She smiled, an amused twinkle lighting up the dullness in her eyes. "I meant in general."

He looked at her quizzically.

"I want to do more than sit around and read novels all day. I want more challenge. I want… I want to go to college."

She had turned around to face him full on now, and his eyes studied her closely. He wanted to rejoice the fact that she was starting to want things from life again, but on the other hand he was terrified that she wanted more than she could handle, and in the end it would set her back instead of help her forward.

"I've realized that… I actually like learning," she went on. "I never knew that about myself. It was never about wanting knowledge before. It was about feeling inferior without it."

She fell silent, and he realized she was waiting for his reaction. He considered his words carefully, well aware that he was treading water.

"I would love for you to explore that part of you," he began slowly, "But Spence… I just don't know if…" He struggled for a way to be gentle, wanting to avoid hurting her feelings at any cost. He didn't want to come across like he didn't believe in her, but how would she cope with going to class when she was still terrified of going to the grocery store because there were too many people? Any sight or noise or smell could cause her to stumble into an episode even on her best days, and a college campus would undoubtedly be crawling with things that could set her off.

She seemed to grasp what he was getting at and lowered her eyes. "Well, I wouldn't actually _go _to college. Physically, I mean. They have online classes now. You can take exams and everything. Even inmates are graduating college this way."

"It's not that I don't think you could do it," he said anxiously, tilting her chin so her eyes met his again. "I'd just worry about you so much…"

"Toby…" She smiled slightly, but it was the kind of smile that made his guts twist. "You don't have to be so nice about it. We both know I'm no shape to…"

Her sentence died prematurely, and he sighed and reached out to link their fingers together.

"I just want what's best for you," he said heavily.

"I know."

She leaned her forehead against his for a brief instant, letting him know she wasn't upset with him in any way.

"We should probably talk it over with Dr. Sullivan first," he spoke after a moment of silence, "but I think it's a great idea."

"You do?" She seemed surprised and somewhat… delighted? Was that delight he heard her voice?

"Uh huh," he confirmed. "But just… promise me you won't let it stress you out too much. I don't care how many classes you take, or how high your GPA is. You'll always be my number one. Got it?"

He had barely finished talking before she pressed her lips against his, cupping his face in her hands.

"I love you," she whispered, and his heart gave a small, silly flutter.


	5. May & June

A/N: Final chapter before the epilogue! There's a longer author's note at the end of the chapter. You'll understand why when you're done reading.

Thank you to all the lovely humans who reviewed. I've run out of words to express my gratitude. And that's saying something, since – in case you hadn't noticed – I kind of like words. A lot.

* * *

May_  
_  
Toby accelerated, pushing through an intersection just as the traffic lights turned red. It was a far cry from his usual laid-back driving style, but these were extenuating circumstances. His heart pounded in his chest as he recalled Veronica Hastings' distraught voice over the phone.

"Nothing's working," she said, obviously agitated. "We've tried everything, Toby. Everything you said. She's lost and she won't come back."

He had dropped his tools and yelled for his buddy to cover for him. He didn't bother checking with his boss first. They knew of his "situation" as they called it (Toby always cringed inwardly at the word), and were understanding for the most part. It could be a lot worse, anyway.

He shoved the truck in park and shamelessly ran up the stairs to the loft. Pushing through the door, he spotted Peter and Veronica standing close to each other and speaking in frantic whispers. He had left Spencer with her father this morning, so the only reason he could think of as to why Veronica was here was that Peter had called her for help before she called Toby.

"Oh thank God," Veronica said with obvious relief, but Toby paid her no mind. His eyes were already looking past the woman, desperately in search of the dark-haired, dark-eyed girl that made his heart beat faster. Both in the best way and in the way that made him feel like he was about to have a coronary.

He easily found her, huddled in a heap in the corner of the living room, her face unnaturally close to the wall. Reflexively, he started over to her, but Veronica held him back with a tug at his arm.

"Toby, wait. You should know… She won't let us near her. She screams like nothing I've ever heard when we try to get close."

"What happened?" he demanded, worry making his voice harsher than he meant.

Veronica looked at Peter, who dejectedly began recounting the events.

"We were watching some stupid thing on TV when all of a sudden there was a scene with a parrot…"

He didn't finish, and Toby felt his stomach roll as if he were about to vomit. For hours on end, Spencer had listened to Tippy the bird ramble and sing, all the while witnessing how unspeakable things were being done to her best friend by someone they had both trusted.

He took a deep breath, telling himself he could cry and throw things later. Right now his first priority was to piece back together the strongest person he knew.

Veronica and Peter watched as he threw his jacket on a nearby dresser and slowly approached the wreck of a girl.

"Spence?" he called in a hushed voice from across the room. "It's me. I'm gonna come closer, okay? Just let me know how close you want me to come."

She didn't react in the least, but he seemed to expect this and started taking slow steps in her direction. After only two or three, she tensed noticeably and pressed closer to the wall.

"Okay," he said gently. "I'm just gonna sit right here for now." He dropped down to the floor and crossed his legs, Indian style. He waited a moment before continuing. "I missed you. I missed you all day, and I can't wait to hold you in my arms and kiss you and smell your hair…"

He proceeded to tell her about what must have been their first couple of weeks together. Spencer showed no sign of hearing him, but that didn't seem to faze him as he took his walk down memory lane. Under different circumstances, Veronica might have been scandalized at the stories coming out of Toby's mouth, accounts she realized with horror that she had absolutely no knowledge of. She felt her husband tense up next to her when Toby recounted how they had slept next to each other in a motel room, half naked, when Spencer was only sixteen years old and they barely knew each other.

After several stories, he announced that he was coming a little closer. He checked for her reaction first, and when she didn't show any signs of discomfort he scooted forward painfully slowly, until he once again went rigid. He stopped instantly.

"It's okay, you know," he said soothingly. "I know that deep down, you know who I am. And I know you'll come back to me. I'll be right here. I'll always be here to remind you of who you are, even when…" He broke off, obviously too overcome with emotion to continue right away. He cleared his throat. "Even when you don't know yourself."

His next story was about how she had bought him a truck. Again, this was breaking news to Veronica, who had eyed that truck with disdain on multiple occasions, finding it filthy and wondering if it was even safe. She had watched Spencer run up to it happily, when he used to pick her up for school. It would be parked outside their fence when she came home from work. But she never knew it was her money that had paid for it.

And so it went on. He would recount instances of their past together, all happy times (Veronica knew they had gone through some devastating occurrences as well, even Before, but he didn't mention those), until her shoulders relaxed somewhat, and then he inched closer – always informing her he would be doing so first. He stopped immediately whenever her body tensed up again, usually after a foot or two. The process was agonizingly slow, and she felt Peter growing increasingly restless beside her.

"This isn't working," he muttered in her ear. "I told you we should have just called her doctor."

"And what would be the point of that?" she snapped back, careful to keep her voice down. "So they can sedate her and drown her pain in medication?"

It was something they disagreed on. Peter found it outrageous that Spencer wasn't on any kind of medication – anti-anxiety, or anti-hallucinations, or both. It was Toby who was adamantly against it, claiming that they would just be numbing the part of her that was still here if they stuffed her with pills. Veronica felt caught in the middle, but eventually put her foot down and sided with Toby. She had to trust that he knew what was best for her, and so far his instincts had never been wrong.

"Just let him do his thing," she went on, making an effort to even out her tone. "He's getting there. It just might take a while."

Toby was currently telling the story of how he had built her a rocking chair, and Veronica felt ridiculous relief that she at least knew this one. It was back when she was still more than a little weary of her youngest child's choice of boyfriend. Even if she no longer believed he was dangerous, she couldn't help but privately feel that her brilliant, beautiful daughter could do so much better than a kid who was clearly going nowhere in life.

Now, she was deeply ashamed at how wrong she had been. How she had judged him for not wearing designer clothes, for not coming from a respectable family or having any desire to go to college. Veronica felt infinitely grateful that despite her own privileged background, Spencer had looked past all that. Spencer had seen the gentle heart behind his quiet eyes and introverted nature, and it had made her unshakably loyal to him from the get-go.

Her was sitting only a few feet away from her now, and Veronica held her breath as he scooted closer again. Spencer let him come up all the way to her this time, close enough to touch her – but his hands remained patiently at his sides. Veronica marveled at this boy's ability to so effortlessly put his own needs second to hers. She could tell how every part of him wanted to reach out for her… but he didn't, and Veronica could only conclude it was because he knew she wasn't ready. One wrong move could send him back across the room in the blink of an eye, and if he had to start this whole process over, it would shatter what had yet to be whole in the first place.

He spoke extra quietly now, undoubtedly because of his close proximity to her. "It's safe here. I promise. Nothing can hurt you while I'm around." He let this sink in before continuing. "And after you come back, we'll lay on the couch and get take-out and watch Disney movies. I'll touch your hair, like this…"

Ever so slowly, his hand went up, always staying in her line of vision. He brushed

a few long curls away from her neck, and when she didn't so much as flinch he gently cupped the side of her face. She leaned her head into his touch and her eyes closed.

"Toby," she whispered.

"Yeah, baby." He sniffled. "It's me."

"Toby!" she said again, with an inane urgency present in her voice. In one smooth movement he had pulled her into his embrace. She fell against him and dissolved into tears, and slowly he rocked her back and forth.

"I'm sorry…" she wept.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," he murmured reassuringly into her hair. His voice sounded warm and steady, but Veronica could see a few tears slip from his eyes.

"I knew you were here," she spoke desperately through her own tears. "I just didn't know how to…"

"It's okay," he shushed her gently. "I wasn't worried. I knew you'd find your way back to me."

Nothing more was said between them. He held her for a long time – long after she stopped crying. It was as if they were the only two people in the world.

Veronica and Peter slipped into the kitchen unnoticed. They went to work silently, emptying the dishwasher and cleaning up the mess in the sink. They both wanted to say goodbye to their daughter before he they left, but right now taking her away from the arms of her loved one was out of the question.

"You were right," Peter told his wife suddenly. "He does know what he's doing."

Veronica abruptly stopped wiping the countertop and threw the rag down. "We missed so much, Peter. We took for granted that she would always be around, that she would always be _Spencer_, and we missed so many opportunities to be near her, to spend time with her…" She shook her head. "It happened while she was still under our roof. I'm her mother; I should be the one to help her when no one else can. I carried her, I gave birth to her, I was the first person to hold her…"

Veronica realized with alarm that after all these months, she was finally breaking down. She hadn't shed a tear since being called to the hospital last summer. She'd told herself that crying never helped anyone, and that Spencer needed for someone to stay strong amidst this nightmare.

But now it was as if all these repressed emotions were ganging up on her, rendering her a blubbering mess. Her husband had never exactly excelled at dealing with emotions – his own or anyone else's – so she turned her back to him, ashamed, not wanting him to see. She was surprised when he reached around her and squeezed her arm.

* * *

June_  
_  
Spencer's fingers twitched nervously against Toby's leg, and he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She seemed jittery but determined, leaning back against the leather seat of his truck. They hadn't spoken much since driving off. Part of him was still convinced it was a terrible idea, but she had asked it of him, and never for the life of him would he ever be able to say no to her.

The ride came to its end sooner than he was prepared for. He turned to her, hyper alert for any sign of discomfort on her part. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to get her out of here.

"You sure about this?" he asked faintly.

Inhaling deeply, she nodded without looking at him. "I'm sure."

They got out of the truck, and she instinctively slipped her hand in his as they slowly walked through the gates of the graveyard. He squeezed her fingers reassuringly, trying to wordlessly convey that if this was what she wanted, he would be with her every step of the way.

It didn't take them very long to locate the tombstone they had come for. She was shaking noticeably by now, and several times Toby half-expected her to turn to him and beg him to take her home, but she just kept placing one foot in front of the other. He wondered why he still let himself be caught off guard by the depth of her strength and bravery.

_Aria Marie Montgomery  
March 1994 – July 2012_

_This was a life that had hardly begun_

_No time to find your place in the sun_

_No time to do all you could have done_

_But we loved you enough for a lifetime.  
_  
Spencer's knees gave out from under her, and Toby reflexively reached out to grab her and ease her down to the ground. Large tears were rolling down her cheeks, and with trembling hands she laid the flowers she'd picked earlier on the grave. Only now did Toby notice she had written something on the card.

_You were little, but you were big. I'll always remember Team Sparia. – Spencer._

He reached out and stroked her hair, but she shook her head. He understood, even if it broke his heart. Sometimes he convinced himself that she would feel the loss of her friend less profoundly if he just loved her enough. If he held her close and tried to feel the pain for her.

But he always knew deep down that it didn't work that way. His sorrow would never run as deep. Not that he didn't feel grief over the tiny, cheerful girl; not that is wasn't absolutely maddening that a person could cease to exist over the course of a mere second, leaving the world around her in utter desolation. But he knew he would never feel it as devastatingly as Spencer did.

She squeezed her eyes shut, and for a moment he was sure she was about to collapse into an episode. But then he watched her shake head in defiance, instinctively latching on to his shirt for support, and he felt a surge of hope. She was starting to fight them now, rebel against them, chase them away. A lot of the time it was in vain, but maybe… He dared to hope that maybe, one day, she would be free.

"It feels wrong to breathe with her gone," she spoke, and he barely recognized her voice. It was broken beyond anything he'd ever heard before. "To eat, to sleep, to smile."

He carefully peeled her hand from his shirt and brought it to his lips. "I hear what you're saying," he answered softly, still terrified she would stumble into her private world of horrors, "but she would have wanted you to enjoy these things. Not feel guilty over them."

Her lower lip trembled as she lowered her eyes, more tears making their path down her pale cheeks.

"You're so brave, Spence." He fought to keep his own voice from breaking. "Not a day goes by that I'm not in awe of you."

She shook her head slowly. "She was the brave one. She… she saved my life. Did you know that?"

Startled into silence, he shook his head. How could he know that? She had never spoken a word about it, and he had certainly never pried.

"He said it was time for her to prove that he was the person she was closest to," she continued. Her voice was shaking, but considering she was finally recounting her terrors for the very first time, he couldn't consider this anything less than a victory. "He'd wanted Ali dead since forever, and I guess I was nothing more than collateral damage. He wanted her to do it, and then they would run away together." She shook her head, as if still aghast at how this man's brain had worked. "She lost it, screamed that he was sick in the head. And that's when he snapped."

Ezra Fitz. One of the most popular teachers at Rosewood High, and a trusted member of the community, with boyish hazel eyes and a winning smile. No one had had even the slightest clue that there lived a monster inside him. Toby's skin crawled when he thought about how many times Spencer had been alone with him prior to that fateful night last July.

"I screamed, Toby," she lamented, "I screamed until my voice was raw. Someone must have heard, why didn't they…?"

"The cabin was sound-proofed," he hastened to explain, feeling angry that no one had thought to tell her this. He couldn't imagine the sense of abandonment she must have felt, how she had to have concluded that the world around them simply didn't care that they were dying. How her last bit of faith in humanity must have dissipated into nothingness.

"How did...?" he started, but then quickly shut his mouth. He told himself not to be selfish. Just because he had questions didn't mean she was up to answering them.

"It's okay." She sounded exhausted, like she had just run a marathon. "You can ask me anything. You've been so patient…"

He eyed her carefully, making sure she meant what she said. He would rather spend his whole life in the dark than ask her to dredge up memories that caused her unnecessary pain. She didn't owe him anything, but her open gaze told him she was as willing as she would ever be to talk about it.

"How did Alison manage to get out of there?" he asked hesitantly.

Something flashed in her eyes, something akin to anger. He welcomed it. Anything to distract her from the gnawing pain that haunted her every minute she was awake, and even sometimes when she slept.

"He'd locked me and Alison in the storage room in the back, while he still hoping to convince Aria to…" She swallowed and didn't finish. "We managed to force a window open, just far enough for her to crawl through. She… she tried to get me to come with her but…" Spencer squeezed her eyes shut and more tears rolled down her face. "I couldn't leave Aria." Her eyes flew back open and met his desperately. "I thought it would be okay, that Ali would get us help. I _told_ her to get us help…"

Toby pushed his free hand through his hair in silent fury. In her panicked state – torn between the lure of safety and her best friend still on the dangerous side of the door – Spencer had made a colossal error in judgment. For a moment, she had considered Alison to be one of them again, one piece of a five-way friendship that was based on loyalty above anything else.

Alison _had _eventually called for help… but not before making sure her own hide was safe first. And Spencer had watched the blond girl run away, never to be seen again, before being dragged into the main area of the cabin and set up to witness the ghastly events that would alter her life forever.

"I should tell her parents," Spencer said after a moment of quiet, sounding defeated, and he realized she was talking about Aria again. "I should have told them months ago, how her sacrifice saved me. It's just… I couldn't even think about it, let alone find the words to…"

He squeezed her hand. There was so much he wanted to say, and he struggled to organize his thoughts long enough to verbalize them. In his mind it was all so simple. But to hers, it might need some careful articulation and gentle convincing.

"She saved your life so you could live it, Spencer. She would have wanted you to grieve her, and then find a way to move on. I'm not saying forget about her," he said quickly when he saw her mouth open to protest. "I'm saying let the memory of her make you stronger, because having known her makes your life richer even if she's not here anymore."

Her eyes were still wet, but she held on to every word he said. Captivated, Toby thought. That's what she was.

"There's so much evil in this world," she murmured without an ounce of bitterness. Her tone seemed almost matter-of-fact. "So much pure, unmingled evil." Her gaze held his in that same intense look. "But there's also so much good. You show me that every day. And I've realized… I can't hate a world you live in. Not that I haven't tried."

He gave her a shaky smile. He had tried that too, once upon a time. Back when he was a lanky, shaggy-haired kid that was hated by everyone, himself most of all. His life back then had been a blur of disappointment and almost numbing loneliness, and he had felt sure beyond any shred of doubt that it would always be that way. He would be alone for the rest of his life, in every sense of the word, because it wasn't as if anyone would ever want him.

But then, on a day much like the previous and the one before that, she had showed up on his doorstep. He still remembered it like it was yesterday – her big, expressive eyes and her silky hair tied up in a bun with just a few of her shorter curls framing her porcelain face. He remembered how she was nothing like he expected her to be. She had allowed herself to be surprisingly vulnerable around him, and her delightfully witty sense of humor had made him smile for the first time in weeks.

He'd heard what she was saying just now. It was the reason she couldn't bear to be away from him on her withdrawn days, why only he could bring her solace when the universe seemed too nasty to even get out of bed in the morning. She was saying that he was her reminder of everything good in this world. She was saying that he had saved her from herself.

But the truth was… she'd saved him first. She had given him the single most precious gift one human being can give another. She had given him a will to live.

"You ready to go?" he requested gently, long after her tears had finally dried up and she looked somewhat peaceful.

She hesitated, as if leaving would be the same thing as failing her best friend all over again, through her eyes.

"We can come back anytime you want," he was quick to assure her. "This isn't goodbye forever."

This seemed to give her the strength to get up. He followed suit, remaining rooted in his spot when he saw she wasn't making any move to actually walk away. Her eyes flickered across the tombstone, and when he spoke her voice was so soft he didn't immediately grasp what she said.

"You'll always be with me, tiny goose."

She turned to him, wrapping both arms around his waist from the side. His arms automatically moved across her in response, his lips burying into her hair, and together they walked away.

As awful as today had been, Toby realized now that it was an important and even necessary step in her road to recovery. She had spent so much time trying to avoid thinking of her petite friend for fear of having her mind yanked away from reality, that she never went through a healthy mourning process. The fact that she had taken the steps on her own to come here, to confront herself with a place that would undoubtedly bring back so many painful memories, confirmed what he had been starting to suspect for a while now. She was no longer sitting idly by as her demons dictated how she lived her life. She was fighting like hell to put together the pieces of her shattered mind, and restore order to her world. He wasn't saving her. She was saving herself.

There was no telling if he would still feel this way tomorrow, or even later today, but for now their future looked like a long, open road.

* * *

A/N: Please know that I have nothing against Ezra or the Aria/Ezra pairing. I just wanted it to be extremely personal, and I also needed a plausible reason as to why Spencer escaped Aria's fate. With what we knew at the time, Ezra seemed like the ideal candidate for a sociopathic personality disorder. For those of you who ship Ezria: I really hope I didn't ruin my own story for you. And if I did, please don't hate me.

The poem on Aria's tombstone is by Mary Varnall. I found it online and thought it was beautiful and perfect for Aria.

Spencer's nickname for Aria – "tiny goose" – is something I stole straight from the great Troian Bellisario herself. She called Lucy Hale that on Instagram once, and I shamelessly stole it because I could soooo picture Spencer calling Aria that. Yes, I am a huge dork.

Also… I've been dying to know – what did y'all think of the finale? Anyone who wants to discuss it and maybe swap theories: PM me. Oh and if you know of any remedies for PLL withdrawal symptoms: also PM me. :)


	6. Epilogue

A/N: And with this epilogue, I wrap up this story. It's kind of on the short side but hopefully you enjoy it anyway.

Endless thanks to all my reviewers, especially the ones that have consistently been there for every chapter. Many of you have thanked me for writing this, but you should really be thanking yourselves. If I hadn't got such a positive response to my previous oneshots, I seriously doubt I would have put in the time and effort to write such a long (for me anyway, haha) and emotionally draining story. I'll apologize one more time for all the tears and whatnot. I'm still torn between feeling like crap for making you cry and feeling amazed that I've managed to move you like that.

Also, thank you to everyone who left theories in their reviews. Some of you had a suspicion something was up with Aria since chapter one; I just never commented on it because I didn't want to spoil anything for the people that didn't think as far ahead. But that doesn't mean I didn't appreciate it! It's both a scary and an awesome feeling to write for readers who pay such close attention.

And lastly, thanks for all the withdrawal remedies! I shall definitely be giving those a try. :)

* * *

Epilogue**  
**  
_10 years later…  
_  
Spencer looked around the room anxiously, reaching out to straighten the napkin on one of the colorful paper plates resting on the symmetrically set table. Toby moved to stand behind her, his hands instinctively finding the knots in her shoulders.

"Everything looks great, Spence," he murmured. "He's going to love it."

She snorted. "He'd better. Look at this place."

Their eyes darted around the space, following the contours of the _Cars_ themed birthday celebration supplies scattered across the living room of their house. There was a ridiculously expensive cake waiting in the kitchen along with an extensive display of sodas and sugar free juices.

"He's going to end up a spoiled brat if we're not careful," Spencer muttered. "This is all your fault."

Toby laughed, and she too let out an amused sound. "Please," he protested. "I suggested a small, modest gathering. I hate to be the one to tell you this but you totally lost control here."

She turned around his arms and lightly pinched his stomach in punishment. But then her hands came to rest on his chest and her eyes met his in a wistful look.

"I can't believe he's two. Can you?"

Toby shook his head, mirroring his wife's nostalgic smile. It literally seemed like only yesterday that he was holding Spencer's hand, murmuring encouraging words against her temple as her body faced more trauma than it probably ever had before. He would never forget the joy if hearing his son's cries for the first time, and the sense of wonder when suddenly there was another person in the room. A tiny, screaming, red-faced person that was the spitting image of Spencer before she'd had her morning coffee.

Spencer pressed herself closer to him still, her arms wrapping around his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered against is skin.

"For what?" he asked, surprised. He pulled back slightly to look at her face.

"For believing I could do it." Her eyes looked past him, to the stairs where their son was down for a nap on the second floor.

It dawned on him what she meant, and he brushed his lips against her forehead to reaffirm his confidence in her.

Three years ago, Spencer had come to him – visibly nervous – sat him down across from her, handed him coffee and told him she wanted to talk about something important. Awful scenarios sped through his head, but nothing could have prepared him for what came out of her mouth.

She wanted a child.

It was a part of him he had shut the door on a long time ago – permanently. He had accepted that a life with Spencer would be a life without children, for the simple reason that he never expected her to want them after… everything. Although she had made immense progress – she'd finished her degree with flying colors, was working part time and had managed to achieve some semblance of a normal life – she still struggled with staying connected to reality sometimes. Stress and sleep deprivation were factors that went hand in hand with the severity of her episodes, and since babies tended to cause both, he had never even considered the possibility that she would want to add that pressure to her life.

When she noticed his hesitant expression, she continued. "I know you have no reason to believe me… but I just feel like this is right for me. I just have this feeling inside me that…" She shook her head and lowered her eyes. "I know it sounds crazy…"

He flinched at the word, reaching out to cover her hand with his. Her dark eyes lifted to his again, and he was startled at the amount of serenity in her gaze. He realized that this was not a spur of the moment desire. It was something she had been struggling with for quite a while, and she had weighed her options carefully before making a rational decision. To this day he didn't rightfully know what had possessed him to hold onto that look in her eyes and say, "Okay."

They were pregnant sooner than expected, and they had cried and held each other and talked about what their child might look like. They had enjoyed what they both knew would be the calm before the storm.

And a storm it was. Her parents had reacted with bewilderment and outrage, informing them sternly that they were out of their minds to even consider adding a baby to their situation. Peter had even turned on him, shouting that he was irresponsible and a huge disappointment.

"Don't you dare call him that," Spencer spoke quietly from behind him, a hidden rage present in her voice. "This was my idea, _I_ wanted this. Toby is just being supportive like always."

Her friends had equal reservations, but were a little more mild-mannered about it – even Hanna. They offered their unwavering assistance, offering to stay with Spencer and the baby while Toby was at work, like the thought of her being alone with the infant was an option not even worth entertaining.

"Don't worry, Spence," they said. "It'll be okay. We're here for you, and we'll help you figure it out."

That night, she had busted up in tears while they were getting ready for bed.

"Why is everyone acting like this was an accident?" she cried. "Like I'm just some stupid teenager who got knocked up by their low-life boyfriend. We're married, I love you and I want to have your baby. Why is that so hard for them to understand?"

He shook his head helplessly, wrapping his arms around her and pressing kisses into her hair. He knew her friends and family were just concerned, even if they went about it the wrong way. He hated that they had upset her, but he couldn't really fault them for being worried, or for wanting the best for Spencer and the baby. He wanted that, too.

And he couldn't deny that he, too, was scared sometimes. When she had a particularly heinous episode when she was seven months pregnant, he had briefly kicked himself, wondering what the hell he had been thinking. He barely slept that night, watching his sleeping wife and her protruding belly, wondering how he could possibly protect them both.

But then he was born. Aaron Tobias Cavanaugh. Toby's world changed forever, and he couldn't bring himself to regret any of it.

Especially when he took notice of how Spencer thrived from being so wholly responsible for another life. It was as if sinking away into her own mind was simply not an option anymore. Her son needed her, and she wouldn't let anything draw her away from him – physically or mentally.

Toby didn't dare be too hopeful at first, but as weeks and then months of incident-free days went by, his confidence grew. He didn't know how, but she had been right all those months ago when she told him she was meant to be a mother. She still didn't like loud noises, and there were still days were she went quieter and shakier than usual – but she hadn't had a single episode since she first cradled her child in her arms two years ago today.

"You've made my life, Toby Cavanaugh," she murmured against him now. "I hope you know that."

He responded by kissing her deeply, stroking her tongue with his in the way that he knew she loved. It always made him emotional when she talked like that. He had given up trying to explain it to other people, but it still felt kind of amazing to him that she would choose him as the man she wanted to share her life with. He couldn't believe it when they were kids, when she'd turned around at the Founders' Festival and walked into his arms without the slightest bit of hesitation; and now – twelve years later – he still couldn't. It was as if she turned around to him over and over, every day of their life together.

When they broke apart after a few nice, long moments, she framed his face in her hands. Her eyes flickered back and forth across his, and he sensed some sort of internal conflict on her part.

"What is it?" he asked, partly amused and partly worried.

She hesitated. "I was going to wait till tonight to tell you but…" Her eyes never leaving his face, she reached for his hands and slowly guided them under her shirt to the bare skin of her abdomen.

He stared at her in wonder. It was as if his brain was working in slow motion. "Are you…?"

She nodded happily, tears glistening in her eyes.

"You're…?"

Again, she nodded, laughing a little at the adorable expression on his face.

He lifted her up in his arms and turned in circles with her, their lips meeting repeatedly in lingering, affectionate kisses.

"We're having another baby," she finally confirmed, before their mouths collided again.

Happiness coursed through his entire body, so intensely it nearly left him breathless. Another child. Another miracle. Another chance for Spencer to grow even further away from her pain. And this time, no one would doubt her.

"Let's not tell anyone yet, okay?" she requested softly, after he set her back down on her feet.

Her parents were coming over today for Aaron's birthday party. They had come around after first laying eyes on their grandson. Toby wasn't surprised. It was impossible to look into Aaron's little face and feel anything but grateful that he was here.

Hanna and Emily would also be arriving shortly with their families, and Jason was bringing his new girlfriend. If someone had told Toby twelve years ago that he would still be in Rosewood when he was going on thirty, he would have laughed in their face. But this was his family now. Spencer enjoyed being close to them, and everyone adored Aaron to the point of suffocation.

"It'll be our secret," he promised.

The doorbell put an abrupt stop to their moment, and they both internally cursed their guests for their horrible timing.

"Someone's early," Spencer declared with a quick glance at her watch. "Probably my parents." She rolled her eyes and he smiled at her.

"Probably."

She made to move away from him but he held her back, stealing one last passionate kiss. She laughed, shoving him gently in the direction of the doorway.

"You get the door. I'll go see if Aaron's up yet."

He saluted her in agreement.


End file.
